


Playing House

by Karlinekind



Category: SPY x FAMILY (Manga)
Genre: Domestic, Family Fluff, Frankie speaks some uncomfortable truths, Gen, How Do I Tag, implied Loid/Yor, it's really background tho, somehow it's gotten a little angsty at the end, this was supposed to be only fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28214715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karlinekind/pseuds/Karlinekind
Summary: When Twilight invited him to dinner a couple of days ago, as thanks for his help during that last mission (When will that boy finally learn that Frankie’s aninformant,for heaven’s sake, he’s not supposed to be on active duty like that! Leave the fighting and guns to the actual spies!), Frankie accepted gladly. Not only because he freaking deserves it after that stunt with the flower pot and the skipping rope (never again), but also because he’s kinda curious how this “family” of his friend’s is doing. They’ve been living together for some months now, after all.What he finds is heartwarming and domestic. Frankie's worried.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 55





	Playing House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GwinChana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwinChana/gifts).



> This is for Gwin, who forgot her username so I almost couldn't gift it to her properly (and who's sitting on her couch shouting "MAAAAAAAN" all frustrated because I mentioned this :P #loveyou)
> 
> The prompt for this was "domestic shit". I hope I delivered :P

It’s been some time since Frankie has been at the Forger’s.

When Twilight invited him to dinner a couple of days ago, as thanks for his help during that last mission (When will that boy finally learn that Frankie’s an _informant_ , for heaven’s sake, he’s not supposed to be on active duty like that! Leave the fighting and guns to the actual spies!), he accepted gladly. Not only because he freaking deserves it after that stunt with the flower pot and the skipping rope (never again), but also because he’s kinda curious how this “family” of his friend’s is doing. They’ve been living together for some months now, after all.

The moment he rings the doorbell, an excited “I’ll open it!!” sounds from inside, and then little Anya opens the door and beams at him.

“Hello, Uncle Fuzzy-Hair!”

“Good evening, Princess Anya,” Frankie greets her and extravagantly bows to her as if she were royalty. Giggling, Anya darts back into the room and he follows her inside.

“Mama, Papa, Uncle is here!” she announces and then settles at the coffee table, where an array of paper and crayons is spread out, continuing whatever masterpiece she’s creating.

“Anya, go and wash your hands,” Twilight—no, _Loid_ —calls, showing up in the living room with a stack of plates in his hands. “Hey, Frankie, glad you could make it. Please, sit down, Yor’s just finishing up dinner.”

Frankie makes himself comfortable at the dining table, studying his friend as he sets out plates and cutlery. He seldomly sees the spy look so relaxed and at ease, blond hair not styled, his simple at-home-clothes a sharp contrast to his usual suit and tie.

Huh.

His observations are briefly interrupted by Anya’s whining (“Anya, I said go wash your hands, dinner’s ready.” – “I’m almost done!” – “You can finish your drawing later.” – “But–” – “ _Now._ ”) and Yor carrying a steaming casserole to the table (“It’s so nice to see you again, Frankie! How have you been? Is your business going well?” – “Wh-what business?” – “Your corner store?” – “Aahhh yes yes, of course, going smoothly as always.”). She heaps a generous helping of gratin onto Frankie’s plate, and boy, he should really invite himself over more often. There’s nothing like homemade food after a long day. Maybe he should really consider getting himself a wife, too.

Conversation flows easily from one topic to the next. They talk about Yor’s work at the City Hall, Anya tells him eagerly about her friends at school and which teacher she does and doesn’t like, Loid avoids talking about his “work” as a psychiatrist, and Frankie entertains everyone with little anecdotes about some of the customers he meets at his shop (both the secret agents and the regular ones. People are weird no matter their job).

Maybe it’s because he’s used to watching people and analyzing them for every little scrap of intel, but Frankie can’t help but notice how natural the three of them are with each other. Granted, they’ve been living together for some time now, and routines are bound to have formed, but there’s just something about the way Loid helps cut the food for Anya and Yor reminding her to eat her carrots as well. It just looks so familiar to them, as if they’ve been doing this for years now instead of months.

Huh.

And it’s not only how the adults interact with the child. If Frankie didn’t know any better, he’d say that Loid and Yor are a real couple. They just give off this air of “just married”, honestly. Need an example?

Frankie: “This is delicious, Yor.”

Yor: “Ah, thank you, but I didn’t do much, really. Loid helped a lot.”

Loid: “I only told you what to do, though. The rest was all your own skills.”

And then he just smiles proudly and a little amused at Yor while she gets all bashful trying to dismiss the praise and babbles something about the recipe coming from one of the mothers of Anya’s classmates. See? If Frankie didn’t know any better, he’d say that the boy was actually falling for her.

Huh.

Huh, huh, huh. Interesting.

When dinner is done, Anya grows restless at the table. “Papa, can I please watch TV?”

“No. It’s almost bedtime, Anya,” Loid says sternly. The girl visibly deflates, and the look on Loid’s face softens. “Hey, how about you finish that drawing of yours?” he suggests, stroking a hand over her hair.

“Can we put it on the fridge when it’s done?”

“Of course.”

“Okay!” And she hops down from her chair, settling at the coffee table again.

Frankie hums. “She’s a really good kid, isn’t she?”

“Ha, that’s just because you’re here,” Loid snorts. “You should’ve seen her yesterday, throwing a tantrum because she didn’t want to do her homework.”

“Haha, no kid ever likes doing homework, eh, Anya?”

“I hate math! And spelling!”, she exclaims, and both men laugh. Frankie doesn’t miss the fond look on Loid’s face, though, as he glances over at his child.

Meanwhile, Yor has started on cleaning up the dishes, and Loid quickly jumps up to help her. Through the open wall, Frankie watches them in the kitchen, snippets of conversation drifting out to him.

“It’s alright, I can manage here. You go back to your guest.”

“He can entertain himself for a minute.”

“I’ll put some of this away for you for tomorrow, alright?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“And now go back and offer Frankie some wine!” She slaps his arm playfully.

Yeah. Definitely young couple vibes.

He frowns.

The promised wine is poured, the finished drawing dutifully praised by everyone and put up on the fridge as was agreed on, and Yor has picked up an increasingly sleepy Anya to put her to bed “and let Papa and his friend chat a little, okay?” The door to Anya’s bedroom shuts, muffled voices still filtering through, quickly growing fainter, but not stopping entirely. Yor must be reading the girl a story.

Frankie sips his wine and studies his friend sitting across the table. Loid Forger.

“You’ve become really good at this, haven’t you?”, he says contemplatively.

Loid looks up. “Good at what?”

“Like… all this domestic shit. Cooking dinner, taking care of your daughter, stuff like that. Being a father.”

At that, Loid’s eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly reigns in any kind of emotion he might feel at the statement. He’s good at that. Has to be, in his line of work. “Well, that’s good for the mission. We need to function as a family.”

“Indeed.” They’re silent for some time, and then Frankie adds, “Maybe you should be a little more careful.”

Loid’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s nice that you get along so well with these two, but – don’t get me wrong – just, don’t get too attached to them, I guess? After all, when the operation is complete, you’re going back to how things were before, right?”

Loid says nothing. The look on his face is unreadable.

 _Oh, boy,_ Frankie thinks. “ _Right,_ Twilight?” he presses.

With a big sigh Loid leans back in his chair. “Right. I know. Believe me, I know.” He rubs his palm over his face, and Frankie realizes that yes, Loid does indeed know. Knows that he’s getting in way too deep with this little pretend family and that, if he keeps it up like this, it’ll only get harder to let this life go again when the time is up.

Frankie can’t say that he’s surprised it’s come to this. The only thing he’s surprised about is that he didn’t see it coming.

“I know,” Loid says again, “that I have to leave after the mission is over. It’s too dangerous for them to be connected to me. It’s probably too dangerous already.” He looks down into his own glass of wine, frowning at the red liquid.

“So… what are you going to do?” Frankie prompts.

“Finish the mission as soon as possible.”

“That’s not what I meant. What are you going to do about your family?”

“Find some reason to leave, I guess,” he says, expression neutral, emotions hidden away behind a mask of indifference. “I don’t think Yor will mind too much. After all, it was a marriage of convenience for her as well. Her brother might act up and be mad at me for leaving her, but I can deal with him.”

While that might be true, Yor isn’t the main issue though. “What about Anya?”

Finally, the mask seems to crack. Loid frowns and doesn’t meet Frankie’s eyes. “Yor is fond of her. I’m sure if I find a good reason for leaving, she’ll take care of her.” It would mean telling another lie, of course. But such is the life of a spy. Lies upon lies upon lies.

“I think so, too,” Frankie agrees. “But it will break her little heart to see her Papa go.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Loid snaps, but Frankie doesn’t mind his tone. He’s just glad that there’s still a heart bleeding through that cold mask. “Shit, it’s just… I was stupid not to realize how cruel this whole thing would be for a child like her. This– this lie.”

And this is Twilight’s biggest weakness: his heart. The heart he unconsciously opened up to a little girl and a young woman. The heart that’s now hurting at the prospect of leaving these two behind again.

Loid sighs, defeated. “It’s just not fair to her. She just wants a family, a true father and mother. Not someone acting as one.”

And because Frankie knows about Twilight’s heart, he doesn’t hesitate to speak his next words.

“Then how about you stop acting?” It’s not something he just tells every secret agent he works with. They all know what the job they chose entails, and it’s usually not a quiet life with a family. But Loid is a friend, and Frankie decides to speak to him as a friend right now, and not as an informant. “Would it be so bad to just stay with them, after the mission?”

Loid snorts, shaking his head. “You know perfectly well that that’s not possible. It’s too dangerous. They’d become an easy target for my enemies. If word got out that Twilight has a wife and daughter, they would never be safe again.” He pauses, meeting Frankie’s eyes. “I can’t do that to them,” he says quietly.

“You’re right, of course. Twilight is a wanted man”, Frankie agrees. He leans forward. “But Loid Forger isn’t.”

Loid just stares at him. Then, just as he opens his mouth to retort something, Anya’s door opens again and Yor steps out.

“She’s asleep,” she informs them happily. “Does anyone want more wine?”

________________  
  


After Frankie left, Loid finds himself sitting on the couch. His mind is still spinning with the things Frankie said, the things he implied Loid should do. Could do.

But it’s not that _simple_. He can’t just give up his job, it’s been his life for too long now. There are still things he wants to do, needs to do! To create a world where no child has to cry anymore, isn’t that–

_But it will break her little heart._

Ahh, dammit all to hell.

“Loid? Is something wrong?” Yor is standing next to the couch, looking down at him worriedly.

“No, it’s… it’s nothing. I was just thinking about something.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “Alright… Do you mind if I join you?”

Loid doesn’t, so she settles next to him, her legs pulled up in that cute, girly fashion that fits her so well. She’s still sipping at the rest of her wine and Loid notes that she’s probably a little tipsy. Not drunk, he’s seen a drunk Yor, but definitely not entirely sober. He catches himself smiling.

They don’t talk, just sit next to each other in comfortable silence. Yor doesn’t pry, asking what’s bothering him, but he knows that she would listen if he chose to confide in her. It’s something he really appreciates about her.

But he can’t tell her. Not without endangering her and Anya.

And he’s scared. He’s scared, because it’s so easy to imagine staying with Yor and Anya. It would be so easy to just keep going as Loid Forger. He likes this life. It’s exhausting and fun and comfortable and, yes, deep down it’s all he ever wanted. A family. A home.

He feels Yor’s head hit his shoulder and takes her glass, so she doesn’t spill the wine, but he makes no move to wake her up just yet. _Just a little while_ , he thinks. _Just let me pretend a little while longer._

**Author's Note:**

> can I just add that this was written for day 21 of our advent calendar and it ended up being exactly 2121 words  
> this is fate


End file.
